


Just Perfect

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ace Katsuki Yuuri, Ace Victor Nikiforov, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Fluff, M/M, Married and Asexual, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 09:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Chris has always encouraged Victor to be in a relationship, not realizing that his best friend is ace. And then Victor falls in love with Yuuri Katsuki, which is fine, since, for all of the Eros, Yuuri is ace too.





	Just Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a request on Tumblr to write Ace Victor. You also get Ace Yuuri in the bargain. I changed some of the dialogue from episode 10. And if this sounds a little bit all over the place is because I had a lot of ideas I tried to cram into one thing and I had 4 prompts to work with too, so I apologize for that.

The Grand Prix Final was a mere three days away when they were out for another walk. In three days he would be anxious and worried about going out on the ice and not letting Victor down (if he was honest with himself, he was anxious about it even now), but for now, at least, he could think about something else. Worry about something else.

They stopped halfway down the bridge and stared out over the water.

Yuuri watched Victor out of the corner of his eye. For all of the comments about Eros and what Eros means, there was still one subject that they’d both carefully avoided. Victor was very famous, yes, and as Victor’s fan Yuuri was all too aware of the theories that went around online. Some believed he had a secret girlfriend, others – a boyfriend. Some claimed they’d seen him go out with different people. There were theories about him and Chris. Yuuri had read all these theories, because sometimes it’s harder to not read something than to actually read it and wondered a little about it himself.

And now Victor was his coach and right there every day and Yuuri could say several things for certain.

Victor didn’t have a secret girlfriend or boyfriend. And it was very obvious to Yuuri that Chris was a best friend and there had never been anything between them. In fact, based on how Victor talked about the subject and avoided certain topics, Yuuri was convinced that Victor had never gone out with anyone.

When Yuuri went out on the ice as Eros the audience whistled and screamed all kinds of things. Victor merely smiled and nodded.

“Did you like it?” Yuuri would ask afterwards.

“Very Eros,” Victor would say and nod with a smile.

 _Do you actually mean it?_ Yuuri would wonder and agonize over this.

Now here they were, a few days before the Grand Prix Final and Yuuri knew there was one subject he couldn’t avoid any longer.

“I like you, Victor,” he finally admitted. “I-I’ve liked you for a while.” He turned away to hide his face, embarrassed that he’d stuttered over the most important confession of his whole life. “For a long while…” he whispered.

“I like you too, Yuuri. I wouldn’t have become your coach, if I didn’t,” Victor added in that usual easygoing way of his.

Yuuri turned back and looked into his face. “I don’t mean like, as in “you’re a great person and I like you”, I-I mean,” he stuttered again, “you _are_ a great person and I like you for that too, but…” Why was this suddenly so hard? “This is more than friendship,” he went on, determined to say it. “I love you, Victor.”

Victor smiled. “I love you too, Yuuri.”

He continued to stand there, just smiling and Yuuri felt like he needed to explain himself more. “I-I don’t mean love like I love my family, Victor.”

“I understand,” he said. “I don’t mean that kind of love either.”

“Oh.” He stood there as the enormity of what Victor had said sank in. _Oh!_

Victor pulled him into a hug. They stood there, arms around each other, hanging on and unwilling to let go for anything.

After a while Victor whispered, “I’m really flattered that you feel this way about me.”

 _Shouldn’t I say that?_ Yuuri thought, returning the hug. Suddenly all of that anxiety he’d had evaporated into the air, leaving behind only the anxiety about the Final. Well, some things couldn’t be helped, it seemed.

They walked back home together, exchanging smiles, their arms around each other.

 _If I could marry you,_ Yuuri thought, _then I would in a heartbeat._ And then he had another thought. _Who said I_ can’t _marry you?_

 

He thought about this again in Barcelona the day before the Final. They walked through the city as he searched around for what he needed.

“It’s your birthday soon,” he said. “What do you want for a present?” _Say I don’t know and I can find something for you, I promise._

“In Russia we don’t celebrate birthdays early,” Victor told him. “It’s considered back luck.”

“Oh. What about Christmas?”

“We don’t celebrate it,” Victor smiled, “until January, anyway.”

 _Of course!_ He remembered reading about that. He walked on, lost in thought, his eyes still searching for the right thing.

_Ah! Over there! Up ahead!_

He ran to the store and called Victor over.

He waited for Victor to comment in some way while they tried the rings on and then waited for him to say something as he bought them both.

But Victor remained silent.

Yuuri already knew where to go next. He stopped in just the right spot where the light from the Barcelona Cathedral would fall on them and they could exchange rings.

He took Victor’s hand and trembled. He’d prepared words for this moment. The night before he’d lain awake and thought them through. Now they were all gone.

“I-it’s a thank you,” he stammered out, slipping the ring over Victor’s finger, “for everything up ‘til now. I-I couldn’t think of anything else. But, I’ll try my best from tomorrow on.” He felt his cheeks burn as he looked up into Victor’s face, waiting for him to say something, anything.

Victor nodded with a smile. “I want you to show me the skating that you can honestly say is the best.” He slipped the ring on.

He stared down at his hand in disbelief.

“I’m hungry,” Victor said, putting an arm around Yuuri, “let’s go grab a bite to eat.”

Yuuri felt his head spin. Did he really just get engaged to his idol, or was he dreaming? And did Victor understand what he’d meant?

 

Victor lay in bed that night, staring at the ring on his finger. Yuuri had already fallen asleep, his head resting against his shoulder. They’d pushed the beds close before falling asleep by each other’s side. After exchanging rings, sleeping next to each other felt right.

He thought of Yuuri’s confession. How could he explain to Yuuri just how he grateful he was for what he’d given him?

For years Chris kept trying to set him up with someone, not realizing what it was that Victor really needed. To be fair, Victor himself hadn’t been sure and went along, thinking that it couldn’t hurt. And then the conversation with the person would turn to sex and his eyes would search around desperately for the exit.

“Well, not wanting to have sex after the first date is normal,” Chris would say.

And Victor would watch him chase someone else to boast about how good they were in bed afterwards.

_Okay, but I’m not interested in any of that. I don’t understand why you would go through all that just for sex. And, besides, you just admitted that they have a terrible personality. I just don’t get it._

Along came Yuuri who didn’t ask any of these questions and didn’t demand anything. Victor thought of the banquet when he saw the boy dance and marvelled at his strength as he lifted Chris. And then Yuuri grabbed his arms and pulled him into a dance and he was having more fun than he’d ever had in his whole life.

 _I want to get to know you better,_ he thought.

_“Be my coach, Victor!” Yuuri shouted._

And Victor did. Not right there and then, granted, but he did.

He remembered his conversation with Chris after he arrived at Hasetsu.

 

_“So… Have you slept with him yet?” He could almost hear Chris prepare to say something like “congratulations”._

_“No. I barely even know him, Chris!”_

_“Yeah, yeah, okay! Sure! You just ran across half the world to become his coach! After he stripped and pole danced! Sure!” Chris was probably rolling his eyes now._

_“I think he deserves a good coach, so, yes, I did rush across half the world to become his coach,” Victor said defensively. “And I want to get to know him better.”_

_“Okay. Get to know him better. Sure.” He could hear the disbelief in Chris’s voice and wondered if it was worth the effort of trying to explain himself better._

After every single Eros performance Chris would call with the same question. And he already knew he would get the same question from Chris the next day.

Maybe it was time to tell Chris to stop asking the question.

And sure enough, the next day, Chris drew him aside and asked it again. “You can’t tell me you _still_ haven’t slept with Yuuri! Look at all that Eros! Are you really going to tell me it doesn’t turn you on at all?”

“He’s beautiful, Chris,” Victor said in a calm tone of voice, “and he’s the best person I’ve ever met.”

Chris laughed. “Listen, Victor, you don’t have to pretend with me.” He leaned closer. “And you don’t have to be embarrassed of it,” he added in a whisper. “I’m just curious, you know? What do you two get up to when you’re all alone?” He leaned even closer, really invading his personal space now, and Victor resisted the urge to step back, afraid to offend his friend. “Do you use ropes or…”

“What!” Victor interjected. He’d listened to Chris talk about this once. He swore to himself to never listen to it again. Two years went by and he was still slightly traumatized by what he’d heard. “No! No! I told you: we’re not having sex!”

He’d protested a little too loudly and people were turning around to give him curious looks.

Victor put his hands over his mouth and then took them away to whisper, “I didn’t have sex with Yuuri! I slept with him, yes, but we slept beside each other.”

“I don’t get it,” Chris said, tilting his head to the side, “you _sleep_ beside each other and you don’t– no, I just can’t believe it!” he shook his head. “You’re not old-fashioned enough to wait until you get married, are you?”

Victor sighed. He was just wasting time with Chris. “Just forget it. I need to go help Yuuri prepare for the competition.”

“Prepare, yeah, sure,” Chris said with a suggestive smile that Victor merely ignored.

And when Yuuri finally got his Grand Prix gold, an entire year later, they got married not long after. And, sure enough, Chris called two days later with the same question.

“Listen, Chris, I can appreciate a joke like anyone else can, but I really think this is getting out of hand,” Victor said, trying to sound calm and almost failing.

“I just don’t understand it,” Chris insisted, yet again.

“And I don’t understand _you_ ,” Victor admitted in a voice that was just a little too loud.

There was an embarrassed pause.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Chris said. “Can you forgive me?”

“It’s okay.” He did his best to make it sound like it was okay, but his voice betrayed the anger he held in check. _Just don’t bring it up ever again._

“I guess I just– _Oh_! I feel like such an idiot!” Chris exclaimed. “All these years we’ve been friends and it never occurred to me!”

“What are you talking about?” Victor asked, puzzled.

“Everything makes so much sense now!” Chris said. “You’re ace, Victor.”

Victor walked into his living room where Yuuri was sprawled out on the couch, “I suppose I am,” he said, stopping to smile fondly at Yuuri’s sleeping form.

He wondered how many people would believe that the kiss at their wedding had been their first kiss. Oh, Victor had kissed Yuuri’s hand and even Yuuri’s skate, but never Yuuri’s lips, not until then. They’d only agreed to it, because it was traditional.

 

_They danced through their whole wedding party until all the guests got tired and went home. They practically danced their way to their hotel room and then dropped down next to each other on the bed._

_“I’m not sleepy at all,” Yuuri admitted._

_“Me neither,” Victor said. “Do you want to watch a movie? We can try to order some food, but it’s probably too late for room service.”_

_Oddly enough, it_ wasn’t _too late for room service, so they ordered whatever looked good on the menu and stayed up half the night watching anything they could find._

Victor smiled at the memory of waking up next to Yuuri and realizing they hadn’t even changed out of their expensive tuxedoes.

He returned to the kitchen to make coffee.

“So…” Chris said in a tone that was still apologetic, “I hope you have fun on your honeymoon. Truly.”

“Thank you. I know we will.”

 

They’d spent weeks planning the perfect honeymoon: starting with a cheese and wine tour in France and ending with a chocolate tour in Switzerland. They went early in the fall when the weather would still be good.

After one hour on the train there they were: in a little town, straight out of a picture book. Even the way the Alps framed it suggested that someone took the time to sit down and plan where each peak should be.

The sun illuminated a cobblestone street as they walked from shop to shop.

“Look at that!” Yuuri exclaimed, his eyes glowing with excitement. “There’s a little village here made all out of chocolate!”

They stood outside, looking in at the display window.

“Let’s go in,” Victor said, opening the door.

Neither of them had ever seen such a selection of chocolate, from different types, to different fillings (like added nuts and berries), that’s not to mention all of the different shapes it was sold in.

“Wow!” they exclaimed at the same time.

“Can I throw out my things and fill my suitcase with chocolate?” Victor mused aloud.

“It will just melt into one giant chocolate suitcase!”

Two hours of going from shop to shop and buying gifts for pretty much everyone they knew they stopped at a little café where each of them got a little masterpiece made out of chocolate and berries.

“Seems a shame to eat it,” Yuuri said, staring down at what he’d ordered.

“I can eat yours, if you don’t want it,” Victor offered.

“I never said that!”

 

Yuuri slept with his head on Victor’s shoulder during the train ride back to their hotel. The world was soft, full of bright colours and happy things. The view outside was breathtaking as the train circled the Alps and forests gave way to small towns before spreading out again over hills and down into valleys. A lake here, a river there, broke the view. Sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water, drawing the eye in. But the best view was the one leaning against Victor’s shoulder.

Victor raised on hand and gently touched Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri slept on.

 _Tomorrow I want to find the best restaurant in Geneva and see just how good it is,_ he thought.

 

Two days later they discovered a small vintage shop on the outskirts of Zurich, which led to a competition of “Guess who this is” on Instagram that Yuuri won. People were just better at recognizing Victor under the old clothes, even when he pulled on a dress with a poufy petticoat underneath, a giant hat, a pair of opera gloves and held a fan made of feathers in his hand.

“I like this one,” Victor said as they stood outside and went through the photos.

Yuuri stared down at a photo of him in a black lace dress with red roses embroidered down from one corner of his chest to the bottom of the skirt. “Maybe we should’ve bought it.”

“You know,” Victor began and tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, “I think I have an idea for a program for next year.”

Yuuri laughed and pretended that he was about to go back. “I’ll go buy it, then, shall I?”

“And this one is good too…” Victor said thoughtfully.

This time Yuuri was in an old war uniform that looked like it came from sometime in the previous century. There was so much gold braid sewn over it that he suspected that it was really from a theatre than from an actual soldier.

“No, no, I think this one is much better.” He flicked over the photos on Victor’s phone and found the one of Victor dressed as a heroine from a Jane Austen novel. “I think you should skate in this next year.”

Victor laughed. “Only if I can end or start with a love confession.”

Yuuri felt the blush rise to his cheeks. “Y-you’re not going to…?” he asked, unable to finish the question.

“No, I think, I’ll stand in front of you as you wear that uniform and confess. And then the music will start to play and I will skate. What do you think of that?” Victor’s face was full of excitement as he said this and Yuuri knew, just _knew_ that he wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it.

“Sh-shouldn’t I dance that? I was the one who confessed, after all.” Yuuri lowered his eyes and wondered if he should’ve said that.

Victor wrapped him in an embrace. “No, you’ll need to come up with your own idea,” he teased. “What about chocolate? You can do the chocolate dance! Like the one in the _Nutcracker_!”

Yuuri laughed, burying his face in Victor’s chest.

“That will be your short program and your free skate can be the wine dance,” Victor went on.

“Are you seriously suggesting that my theme this year should be our honeymoon?” Yuuri raised his head and looked into Victor’s face.

“ _Our_ theme,” Victor corrected him.

He didn’t know what to answer to that.

 

It was another rainy autumn morning in St. Petersburg. He woke up late, his arms around Victor.

They’d fallen asleep in front of the TV under a thick quilt yet again.

He reached out for the remote and turned it off as an elderly lady told him that the next week would have nothing but rain.

Yuuri thought of that warm afternoon when they walked down a street in Zurich, making plans for the future season, holding hands tightly. He remembered the jokes they’d made about their programs. Victor promised he would have a palace in the background when he skated. Yuuri promised to throw chocolates out to the audience.

Then his eye fell on the clock on the wall. _Crap!_

“Victor,” he whispered, shaking him gently. “Victor, we’re late for practice.”

“Hmm…” Victor, who was usually a morning person, dropped his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder, murmuring, “five more minutes.”

Yuuri knew what would happen the moment they got to practice. He could already picture the stares they would all give them. He could hear Yuri Plisetsky mutter “disgusting” under his breath as everyone else made jokes about staying up late.

 _Yes, we did stay up late,_ he thought. _There was a good movie on._

And he knew they wouldn’t believe him, if he told them the truth.

But it was so good to stay here, were it was dry and warm while the rain pattered against the windows. Outside people ran through puddles shielding themselves with umbrellas, but here there was just Victor, clinging on in his sleep.

Yuuri watched water trail down the glass. A bright yellow leaf was stuck in the bottom right corner of the window. Out there their balcony chairs were getting wet.

A bird landed on the back of one of the chairs and tried to shake the rain off.

 _Time to go_ , he thought.

“Victor,” he whispered again, “come on, you’ve had your five minutes.” He rubbed Victor’s back with a smile.

 

“Next on the ice, representing Japan – Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov!”

He skated out onto the ice in a costume of black lace with red roses sewn at the waist and down to his half skirt.

The music started to play and he launched into his short program: Spanish Chocolate from the _Nutcracker_.

There were ballet elements in his program and he jumped on his skates, almost as if he was in pointe shoes. So the dance and music were well-known, but he was still determined to surprise the audience. Especially since Victor had surprised everyone with his routine.

 

_He stood in front of Yuuri in the closest approximation to a long white dress he could skate in and listened as the speakers played a recording of a love confession and then the music started to play and he backed away into his routine._

_Afterwards everyone argued which novel had inspired Victor. When asked he smiled and answered “my husband”._

Yuuri had choreographed both of his programs this time. As he went into a spin he had a sudden vision of himself and Victor sometime in the future. He imagined Victor coaching someone else and himself going on as a choreographer by his side. Victor had really grown as a coach in the last few years.

Maybe they could go out there into the world and look for young talent.

He wondered what Victor would say to that as the music ended.

 _But for now,_ he thought, bowing to the audience, _we’ll keep going for as long as we can. Right, Victor?_

He turned to smile at his coach and husband and got a nod in return.


End file.
